Keely's Little Girl Grows Up by Boris Yeltsin
by CraftyNotepad
Summary: Boris Yeltsin's first Phil of the Future story. Join him as he spins a tale of a blonde's scheming, subterfuge, and superiority over someone smaller than herself, and, no, it's not Pim guilty of that. Keely did it. Yeah, you read it right. Keely Teslow!
1. The Birth of a Notion

**Keely's Little Girl Grows Up  
**Published: 05-26-10 - Updated: 06-09-10

**Chapters:  
**1. The Birth of a Notion - 2. Hook, Line and Not Sinker - 3. Best Laid Plans - 4. Busted! - 5. Nature Vs Nurture -  
6. Playing Parents - 7. Boo Boo - 8. Extreme Makeover, Awful Edition - 9. The Odds Are Against Her - 10. On Her Own -  
11. Night Visions - 12. Double Your Fun - 13. Lucky Serendipity - 14. Big Trouble - 15. House Call - 16. Found you -  
17. Something In the Dark - 18. Caught - 19. Pink Frosting In Their Veins - 20. The Truth Comes Out - 21. Double Trouble -  
22. Here We Go Again

**Summary**: Boris Yeltsin's first Phil of the Future story. Join him as he spins a tale of a blonde's scheming, subterfuge, and superiority over someone smaller than herself, and, no, it's not Pim guilty of that. Keely did it. Yeah, you read it right. Keely Teslow!

Disclaimer: I've got to clean under my bed more often. I just bet that my rights to Phil of the Future are under there somewhere.

**Authors' Note**: Yeah, that's right, more than one author. Boris Yeltsin is still waiting for FanFiction to get around to helping him with posting problems, so you'll find his stories here for a while. (Anyone want to start a pool on when they'll get around to him? I want September 10th, 2010.) He's offered to let me help in the story in return for posting services for now, but eventually this will be copied and pasted on to his personal author's page as his first published work - YEA! Oh, what's it called? Glad you asked, he calls it:

**Keely's Little Girl Grows Up**

by Boris Yeltsin

and CraftyNotepad

Chapter One: The Birth of a Notion

Another abandoned shoe retrieved from under her bed meant Keely was keeping her promise to clean her room. Already, she was finding things she had forgotten about, getting sidetracked in the progress, which was slowing with each new discovery. One of Phil's extra toes was tucked inside an old lipstick case so only she knew it was around. Her victory-over-stage-fright trophy on her dresser needed some serious dusting. Along side it was picture of Via and Phil, Owen and herself before the dance ... there were two pictures of them taken that night. Where was the other one?

Keely spoke aloud to her cat, Daisy, "Know how socks are supposed to somehow mysteriously disappear in the dryer? I don't know why they don't reappear under the bed, because everything else seems to end up under here. This is packed under here. At least, Daisy, there's no room for you to have kittens under here. What's this now?"

Keely pulled out a stack of fashion magazines, loose sheets of song lyrics and poems she had been working on. Under the random pages she had been using an old notebook, instead of a clipboard, to have something hard to write on. Opening it, she smiled. It was her and Phil's science project, the Plum-Lemon hybrid tree, the Plemon. Sidetracked again.

Eventually, she stopped walking down memory lane long enough to continue her excavation of the underside of her bed. What else is under there? Just great. This is where her painted ceramic ducks had migrated to. Her mother never did present a decent answer why they weren't allowed outside with the rest of the ceramic life forms adorning the Teslow front yard. Had she never seen polka-dotted ducks before? Part of a future gizmo from the Diffys' garage, hopefully a critical time engine part that she'd get around to returning, maybe, but don't hold your breath. What else is - ew! Soft. Something Daisy brought in and let die under her bed? Ug. No, it's fabric, not fur, but it's all wrinkly, like a six-month old dirty sweat sock. Suddenly, the idea of a dead mouse wasn't quite so repulsive. Eyes closed, Keely held it by two fingers and pulled it out for inspection. Not so bad, really. A left-over scrunchy from her Keely's Korner stage. Hard to believe that Pim had started so much on the back of a box full of scrunchies. Oh, how Pim had used her, nearly wrecking her journalism career, and had gotten away with it scott-free, as usual.

"Daisy, one of these days, that girl really needs to learn a lesson once and for all, but, face it, Daiz - Pim's just too far gone. Why can't she be like her brother? I wonder if Pim was ever nice." Pulling the scruchy back like a rubber band, Keely shot the hair retainer out her bedroom door and down the hall, Daisy pouncing after it as if it were a low flying birdy. "Daisy!" In her haste to catch the escaping scruchy, the impulsive feline knocked down several of the recovered items her mistress had place atop of the bed for sorting. Down came magazines and her old science project.

A notion grew in Keely Teslow's noggin, like a Plemon seed, sprouting slowly at first, then it was given a jolt and came into full bloom. Reaching for a pen, she opened up her old science notebook and flipped pages until she came to a blank one. Purposefully, she wrote:

EXPERIMENTAL SUBJECT NUMBER 2  
P. Diffy, Behavior Modification and Stuff

and then she took a deep breath and made a wish.

A/N: Tag Boris, you're it.


	2. Hook, Line and Not Sinker

Disclaimer: Own it? Well, it was just sitting there, abandoned, so I took it in and fed it with new stories. You should be thanking me. The poor little PotF hadn't had a decent meal in years.

**Author's Note:** Boris Yeltsin takes over the reins in this second chapter entitled:

Chapter Two: Hook, Line and Not Sinker

Keely knew what she had to do, get the New-Ager, but how to get it without Phil knowing? Another problem came to her, how to get Pim in the right position?

She'd have to figure these out on her own. Phil's dad kept the future stuff in the garage. Keely managed to find the New-Ager without messing anything up. She found Pim's room. It was time. She had her notebook with her, or log as she now called it.

"Hey Pim."

"Oh, it's you blondie."

"I'd like to do some more of Keely's Korner."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Perfect."

"Thanks."

She was in the right position. Keely selected behavior at age 8 and fired. ZaPP!

"Wha, what did you do to me!", 8-year-old Pim screamed.

"Nothing."

"Hey, you! Cornstalk!"

Keely tried other ages, but Pim just kept turning out nasty.

ZaPp!  
Brat! Knock it off!

zApP!  
I mean it, you poopyhead!

ZAPP!  
NO! NO! NO! MINE! MINE! MINE! GIMME!

zaPP! zapp!  
WAAHHHH!

A/N: Tag Crafty, your turn.


	3. Best Laid Plans

Disclaimer:

A/N: And the hand off goes to Crafty ...

Chapter Three: Best Laid Plans ...

"WAHH! WAHH! WAAAAHHHH!"

Ever try to think while a baby wails at the top of her little lungs? Tain't easy as Keely Teslow was learning first hand. Everything had gone sort of according to plan - up to a point. She had gathered the materials she needed for her experiment, i. e., the NewAger and the subject to be new aged, but something unexpected had occurred. Pim wasn't cooperating with Keely's hypothesis of Pim being nicer as she was made younger. Nope. Pim wasn't being a cooperative test subject, especially now, surrounded in what were her once signature layered arrangement of garments that now resembled, well, they were just a pile of clothes on the floor - filled with a little crying person. Don't forget the little screamer; Keely hasn't.

"This was suppose to be easier than spraying a donut - 'It's okay, Pimmy. Don't cry. Mommy Keely will make everything better." Her first instinct was to age up Pim and apologize for - that'd never work. Pim isn't the forgiving sort. She's the 'get-even-and-then-some' sort and Phil's girlfriend did not want to find out what that last part wasn't limited to. This was only one thing to do. She'd have to make a run for it.

Gathering the infant in her arms, Keely exited out the Diffys' back door as fast as she could clutching both the NewAger, and the now screaming banshee. Though she feared she was spotted - how could everyone not notice - the two of them made it back to the relative safetly of the Teslow address.

"This isn't a toy. Bad things can happen if you don't know what you're doing." The memory of Phil's warning played over and over again in her mind. She had accused Phil of being a killjoy, but now? At least Mom wasn't home.

"Daisy, what am I going to do?"

Daisy, the house cat, licked herself, then swatted something imaginary just out of her reach.

"Thanks a lot, Cat. That was a big load of help!" depressed Keely responded.

Something she hadn't foreseen had occured. What do scientist do when that happens to them? They, uh, apply for more funding? Sure, but how do they get it? Oh, right, they just revise their theory so they can keep their jobs. That's called "motivation." Keely had motivation, also. Something about going on living.

"I guess I'll just have to ... what's that smell? Daisy, you didn't? Mom said the next time you ..."

Daisy went on looking innocently disinterested as all cats pretend to be.

"Ew. Well, Pim. There's proof that you're not an android, like Debbie Berwick."

At least this was one problem Keely knew how to, uh, clean up after.

And the hand off goes to Boris ...  
(Hey, I'm not changing THAT diaper!)


	4. Busted!

Disclaimer: Do I own Phil of the Future? Let me check my pockets.

And the hand-off is to Boris:

Chapter Four: Busted!

"What the?"

Phil noticed the bedroom door wide open, and a book of some kind.

Probably one of Pim's, but it wouldn't hurt to look.

He scanned the notebook.

He recognized the handwriting as Keely's. The clothes on the floor were Pim's, and he'd checked his stuff. The New-Ager was gone.

"Oh boy."

Meanwhile, Keely had managed to get the stuff she neded.

"There we go Pimmy, it's okay."

She got Pim changed and gave her a bottle.

Baby Pim's eyes drooped.

Keely sang her to sleep.

_(Sung to the tune of Hush Little Baby)_

_Hush, Little Pimmy, _  
_Don't spill the beans._  
_Keely's going to fix you._  
_Just wait and see._

_And if you're still nasty,  
what will I do?  
I can't keep you so,  
oh, I'm screwed._

_This was supposed to be so easy._  
_Just Zapp and you'd be good._  
_Now, let go of Mommy's hair, _  
_like you should._

When Pim woke up, she started making a mess.

"Pimmy, no!"

Keely tried aging Pim up to 2, 4, 8, nothing was working.

"You're not the boss of me, lady.", 8-year-old Pim told her scowling.

"Ugh."

"Keely, you are in so much trouble!", Phil said. He'd caught up to them via tracking them with his Wizrd.

"Uh, hey, Phil, long time, no see."

Your turn for Chapter 5


	5. Nature Vs Nurture

Disclaimer: Do I own Phil of the Future? What? Are you supporting slavery? That's so 19th Century.

Authors' Note: CraftyNotepad picks up the storyline (after the diaper changing. What a wimp!)

Chapter Five: Nature Vs. Nurture

Phil was having flashbacks ... he was five and pouring the last pudding cup into his sister's shampoo bottle ... he was six and had just morphed Pim's banana split into a dish filled with live banana slugs ... seven, and he was using the tail from his remote comet to skywrite unflattering limericks about his sister's hair and hygiene habits. How'd Pim ever turn out so nasty when he had never been anything, but nice to her? A shoe thrown in his direction placed that self-query on hold for now.

"Keely! What did you think you were doing?"

"Helping?"

"I said, 'I order you to change me back,' you knuckleheads, before I decide to use your heads for hood ornaments!"

Pim was beyond mad. Eyes budging, her face was flushed in crimson and Phil could almost see cartoonish steam escaping from her ears.

"Has she been like this the whole time?"

"No, not the entire time. Once, she was good."

"Once? Pim? There's no need to exaggerate, Keely," Phil assured her as he ducked from a second flying footwear.

"Just zapp her with your wizrd, Phil, like you did Myron at the dance. Freeze her."

"I can't. A wizrd won't work that way. It's set up at Wizrd Corp.'s factory not function on any person sharing the same genes as its operator. Otherwise, there'd be chaos again, like in the Wizrd Whoops of 2088, when almost half of the sisters and brothers on Earth were transformed into various animals. Scientists created the Blahs to try and de-stress sibling tensions so the siblings wouldn't be zapping one another again, but the Blahs created even worse problems than overworked animal control officers, so, now, wizrds won't work on family members, beyond a little annoying zapp."

"Oh."

"I'M WAITING!"

"Keely, how'd you get 'Miss Personality' all the way over here anyway?"

"As a baby."

"THAT'S ANOTHER THING! YOU'VE SEEN ME NAKED!"

"Then, Keely, I think you know what you have to do."

Miss Teslow nodded, took careful aim at the now quieter, but bargaining Pim, squeezed the trigger and ... ZaPp, ZaPP, ZaPP, zaPp ... Pim was now diaper diminutive again.

"AW! She's so sweet this way; why does she have to grow up?"

Phil prolonged saying her name, "Keeee-ly ..."

"I know, I know; it's just that ... I had this great idea of how I could get back at Pim for how she used me doing infomercials for her and how she's always mean to you and your nice parents and taking advantage of the other kids at school and intending to take over the world and everything and then I thought that MAYBE it's not all Pim's fault because maybe it's a matter of nurture over nature like we learned in biology and maybe with your amazing NewAger thingy I could make Pim nicer or better yet normal. {Huhhhh. gasp!}"

"Breathe, Keely, Breathe! Take a breath!"

Phil had gotten most of that. So, Keely had the best intentions. Keely always had the best intentions, but that could spell trouble with normal attempts to meddle, such as matchmaking. With 22nd Century technology involved, it could spell disaster. Phil was ready to give Keely the NewAger lecture again when he realized that things had already gone too far.

"O-okay, Keely, I'll help."

"Thanks, Phil, but it's no use. Everytime I use the NewAger to make her older, she just gets cantankerous all over again."

"That's because you didn't press the button on the side of the NewAger."

"That'll just change the age of her behavior. We can't have a teenaged Pim crawling around like a baby."

"Oh, not the button on that side. The button on the other side of the NewAger. It's an emotional attachment filter. Pim will remember how to walk, her state capitals and why, even though she's told to put on her shoes and socks, her socks go on first. What she won't retain are strong emotional links to memories, except for the new ones you help her forge; those will burn bright within her. Sound like a plan, Partner?"

"Gee, I could use a lab assistant," Keely teased.

"Partner or I'm taking the NewAger and leaving you alone here with -"

"PARTNER! Absolutely positively partners! Yes! I totally agree."

Phil handed Keely back her log, in which she jotted down some quick notes:

TOOK ON NEW LAB ASSISTANT  
NOW THAT THE CONTROL PORTION OF EXPERIMENT IS COMPLETED  
I WILL BE UTILIZING THE "EAF" - EMOTIONAL SOMETHING SOMETHING  
NATURE VS. NURTURE WITH ME BEING THE NUTURERER  
"NO PRESSURE"

Your turn, Boris.  
"No Pressure"

.


	6. Playing Parents

Disclaimer: If Phil is really from the future, as Disney claims, then is Disney claiming ownership on people and things that don't exist yet? I claim, um, dolphin swim coaches. No, dolphin talk show hosts! Yeah, that's be cool. EEE-ERERR-Click-Click-ROOREE!

Author's Note: And the hand off is accepted by Boris. Go, Boris, Go!

Chapter 6: Playing Parents

The EAP F, as Keely called it, was working well. Now, Pim's strongest emotional memories would be those Keely and Phil assisted her in the making. The dark, spiteful, controlling Pim was nowhere to be seen?

Phil had used the Wizrd to turn part of the house into a nursery.

As the hours went by, Keely jotted down notes in her log.

"Mommy?"

Keely almost dropped her book as she saw baby Pim walking toward her.

"Hey Sweetie."

"I play with kitty?"

"Sure, just be careful with her."

Phil came in.

"Well, we make pretty good partners don't we?"

"Yeah, this version of Pim makes a great daughter."

"Don't push it."

Phil would help out with baby Pim, except for the dirty diapers, that was Keely's department.

Phil was actually starting to like this new Pim a lot.

Keely noticed this, and took notes on it:

_Assistant appears to be bonding with subject._


	7. Boo Boo

Disclaimer: No, I don't have rights to Phil of the Future, only the lefts. (I think the rights disappeared in the dryer.)

Chapter Seven: Boo-Boo

"Hey, Boo Boo! This sure is a really nice pic-a-nic basket."

"Why do I have to be 'Boo-Boo?" Phil inquired, not attempting follow Keely's example by imitating Yogi Bear.

"You can always be 'Mr. Ranger,' Sir. Pim will be our little Boo-Boo, won't you, Honey?"

In the stroller her big brother was pushing, Pim turned around and grinning and giggling with glee. Just like most little kids, she was reacting to the tones in the voice around her more than what was being said. Like her stroller-sized contemporaries, she wasn't up on all the old cartoon characters. She was happy though, happy to be outdoors, be it Pickford Park or Jellystone National. The sky was blue, the breeze was refreshing, and the ground smelled young and alive. About her in the park were were roller bladers on the cement walkway, kite flyers with their heads in the clouds, even other picnickers.

"Let's set up on that little mound over there."

"Okay," Phil told her, thinking "no problem," and made his way over in that direction.

"No. Too much sun for our little Pimmy. Go over there under the trees for some shade, Phil."

"Okay," and the stroller was rolled in another direction.

"Phil, what were you thinking? This grass is still all wet from the morning dew. Are you trying to get Pim's dress dirty? Why didn't you take us over to the middle of the field, under a small tree. Look around, that's what some other families are doing. Think, will ya? Let's go."

At this moment, it was not lost on Phil, how these conveyances got the name strollers. You stroll here and there, but never really knowing where you're suppose to be headed, kind of like "life."

"Let's go." parroted Pim behind oversized sunglasses.

On the back of his neck, the hairs were standing up. Was Pim's old personality reemerging? Worse, was Keely becoming more like Pim? Maybe she had set the NewAger wrong, ricocheted a zapp or something? He hoped so; otherwise, this is what Keely might be like on her own in the future. Phil gulped at that thought. "Coming."

Phil was handed the blanket to spread out as Keely focused in on helping Pim out of her stroller. Already, Keely was regretting skipping over the baby buggy stage. She had just the right outfit for rolling out a bassinet, except for maybe a cape. She thought that it could handle a cape. Today, though, was too warm for even a fashionable woolen scarf. While Pim sat up on the blanket, Phil started unloading the goodies from the basket. Instinctively, Pim started grabbing. Keely stepped in.

"Does Pim know why we're here?"

"To eat lunch."

"That's right, and who's getting lunch ready for us?"

"He is," pointed a stubby little digit.

"Uh-huh. And what should we say?"

"Hurry up?"

"Try again, Midget."

"Phil," Keely's stare cut through his attitude like a spoon through potato salad. "Pim, Honey, when someone does something nice for us, like making us a nice lunch, we say ...?"

"Thank you?"

"VERY GOOD! Pim is so good. Right, Phil?" Phil was a little slow in answering, earning him a nudge from Mommy Keely. "Boo-boo" wasn't totally an inaccurate label for him, because if Keely kept this up, he was going to be requiring some boo-boo bandaids inside and out.

"You're welcome, Pim. That was very nice of you to thank me ... I - I don't remember you doing that before."

Pimmy smiled at her big brother, then giggled. That giggling had always meant trouble for Phil in the past. Those hairs stood at attention again. This new Pim was going to take some getting used to.

Tensions eased over lunch, something about chewing that makes one think before speaking. All negotiations, from peace talks to labor disputes should occur with food involved, if only for the table manners. Of course, there are food fights. Never mind. Anyway, other than Pim calling her peanut butter and jelly sandwich a peanut butter and jellystone sandwich after Keely started it in her Yogi Bear voice, everything went smoother than could be expected. Nothing was thrown, not even an insult, and Pim laughed at some of Phil's jokes, instead of at Phil. She even migrated back and forth between the two nearly adult laps. Then Keely started trouble.

"So, what's for dessert, Phil?"

"Oops."

"No 'sert?" Pimmy started to tear up, then whimper, then cry. Okay, she bawled. Everybody, just everybody heard her. Then someone walked over to check up on what all that racket was about.

"Hey, Kids. What's got the cutie all shook up?"

Pim's eyes lit up and she stopped crying at once. "Danny."

" No, I'm not 'Daddy' - wait, did she say my name? Smart kiddo."

"Yeah, Danny," Phil started spinning, "she's a cousin of mine."

"Pim!" excerberant Pim proclaimed, already wrapping herself around Danny's right leg.

"Uh, yeah, her name is Pim, too. Family name."

"And not shy, either, I see. Must be a family trait, too. Say, where's my Pim?"

"Here!" Pim told truthfully.

"She around," Phil honestly replied.

" She told me to meet her here for her next assignment, but I haven't seen here anywhere."

"I Here!"

Keely interjected quickly, "Say, Danny, would you mind watching Pim for a few minutes while we go get her ice cream? She really seems attached to you."

"Well, sure. Don't think I could pry her off anyway."

"Be back soon. Want anything?"

"I wouldn't say no to a tutti-frutti twin-pop."

"One TFTP coming right up," agreed Keely, and off she went with Phil to the snack concession.

As they strolled away, Phil whispered, "Do you think it's safe to leave Pim with Danny? What if she tells him what happened?"

"Would you believe her if you were him?"

"No."

"There you go. How do you think your 'new' sister is shaping up?"

"I gotta admit, I'm still nervous, but I haven't seen any problems yet. She seems happily normal."

Keely lit up. Coming from Phil, that was like a gold star, blue ribbon and A+ all rolled up into one.

By the time they returned to the picnic site, their own ice cream was almost gone. Popsicles were distributed to Pim and Danny, who took a break from playing and laughing to welcome the frozen treats.

"So, what did you two do while we were gone?" politely asked Keely.

"Games," answered Pim for both of them."

"She certainly has taken a shine to you, Mr. Dawkins."

"Yeah. I only hope some of that will rub off on her namesake."

"Don't worrry, Danny," Phil responded with a wry smile that was attempting to restrain a chuckle, "I'm sure it will. Don't worry, we'll tell Pim that you were here."

"Thanks, Phil. It's just that it's not like her not to show up."

Pim stuck out her tongue at Danny. Big stupid head. Keely gave her such a look, whispering, "Be nice. Good manners," then pulled the corners of her own mouth up to form a smile, hoping Pim would imitate her "mommy."

Later, the picnic basket was a great deal lighter, so Keely managed to both carry it and update her log:

LUNCH IN PARK  
SUBJECT IS PROGRESSING  
ASSISTANT LIKEWISE, THOUGH HESITANT  
HE NEEDS TO EXPERIENCE SOMETHING TOTALLY  
OUTSIDE HIS COMFORT ZONE  
_(IN THE NAME OF SCIENCE, NATURALLY)_

A/N: Sorry, Boris. They didn't buy any ice cream for us. Maybe you'll have better luck with the three of them. Tag.


	8. Extreme Makeover, Awful Edition

Disclaimer: I don't own Phil of the Future. How about you, CN? Aw, it's not that bad. Stop shaking your head and crying. Your tears are confusing the ants about the weather.

Chapter 8: Extreme Makeover, Awful Edition

"What are you guys doing?"

"Dress-up."

"Cool."

"You play daddy?"

"Wha?"

"You play?"

"Sorry, Kiddo."

"C'mon Phil, it'll be fun."

"Nope."

"Daddy."

Pim gave him a smile. How could he resist?

"Fine."

"Yay!"

"We're gonna make you pretty."

"Oh boy, what am I getting myself into?" Pickford bargain hunting memories flashed through his mind during his makeover. Shoe sales before Via relieved him of that duty, ending up owning at least three halter tops just because Keely bought one and it was "buy one - get the second half-off." How could he resist such a bargain?

When they finished, Phil looked in a mirror. His hair was all curled, he was wearing make-up, and other girl stuff.

"Ahhhh! Fix me!"

"You funny daddy."

Keely was trying to hold in her laughter.

'Please don't laugh', Phil thought.

No use.

"She's right, you look silly."

"Get this stuff off me!"

The ladies checked each other's eyes and communicated through expressions, then together, they pounced upon Phil, knocking him down with their hugs. Phil Diffy's heart melted. It had all been worth it. The girls in his life really loved him.

A/N: Tag Crafty, your turn.


	9. The Odds Are Against Her

Disclaimer: Do I really have to say it anymore? All right, all right already! I don't own Phil of the Future.

A/N: And the hand off goes to Crafty ...

Chapter Nine: The Odds Are Against Her

It was dinner time and Phil had wizrded the plates of SpaghettiOs® into a grown-up meals according to Keely's menu:

:

**_Tonight's Especialities_**

_pork chops in apple sauce,  
croissants with a brie dipping sauce,  
endive salad drizzled with a vinaigrette of roasted garlic,  
mashed potatoes fancied up with sweet corn, sweet peas, and string beans - with the actual strings!_

:

She was so proud of herself. Her grand experiment was a screaming success and Phil was responding well, too. Long made unimportant by her involvement in her project, Keely had forgotten how this had all started with her own overwhelming need to make Pim pay for getting away with nearly trashing her journalism career. She was too busy patting herself on the back, poo-pooing Phil's warning about bad things happening when the NewAger was used irresponsibly. Please. You only had to glance at tonight's menu to see how serious she was about all this.

Over the dining table draped the Teslow's best tablecloth, adorned by three plates filled with tonight's repast, simply waiting for the family to be seated.

"At dinner tonight, we are going to show off our good table manners. That means saying "please," "thank you," and "excuse me."

"Easy," a male voice remarked.

"AND, And, and it means chewing with our mouths closed, and, uh, not speaking with food in our mouths."

"Easy," echoed a voice lower to the ground. Pim had been progressing nicely, so Keely had Pim upped to nearly five birthdays.

"Alright, let's eat."

"Yea!" Pim screamed, and was first to sit down.

Keely had Phil escort his little sister back, so they could all enter the dining room together. Phil sat down. Keely cleared her voice twice before Phil caught on that she was expecting him to pull out her chair for her. Can you believe it? Phil actual thought he was off the hook until another throat sound was uttered. Little Sis was a fast learner, especially when it made her feel like a princess being waited on.

Yeah, Pim was feeling all superior, happily modeling Mother Keely's examples; that is, until her first fork full. Yuck! This sure wasn't ice cream. Cautiously, Pim Diffy took tinier and tinier samplings from her plate's offerings, but happiness was hard to find. The pork chop was hard work to make progress on, both cutting and chewing, though Father Phil did step in to cut her meat for her, after washing it off, after it was retrieved from the carpet, which was after it took flight off her plate when she attempted to cut into it. Phil even made a joke about it, "So, it's that time. I always wondered when pigs were going to fly." Even Keely laughed.

Once her fancy roll was swallowed, Pim's chances at scavenging from her plate became pretty much limited to scraping the apple sauce from her plate with a spoon and picking out the yucky vegetables from her mashed potatoes. "Mom" told her to clean her plate. "Dad" was quiet. He did see that Pim wasn't happy, though, and a tablecloth can be so much more than decorative. When Keely was busy sipping her water and Pim mimicking her with her own Kool-Aid®, the third party stealthily wizrd her veggies into candy corn and the like, while the salad became iceberg lettuce with ranch dressing. Keely missed the switch-a-roo, and Pim almost gave it away by gasping, but then she pretended to be chocking. Immediately, Phil held out his index finger and thumb, making a classic "gun" shape, and shouted, "Hands Up!" Pim's arms shot up in the air.

"WHAT are you doing?" cried Keely.

Pim stopped choking at once.

"Oh, it's just a mid-21nd Century first-aid technique to stop someone from choking, a more advanced form of the Heimlich Maneuver. It was discovered during a robbery during a hot dog eating contest."

Keely rolled her eyes. Phil tapped Pim's foot, which was dangling in mid-air.

"Yes, it's true. The Hands-Up method is well established in the future. Thank you, Big Brudder, for saving me _(from yucky veg-it-tuh-bulls)_."

"You're welcome, Sis. You know, I've always got your back."

Keely felt her own eyes starting to well up, uncertain if it was due to the sweet beauty of this moment of sibling bonding, or from the fertilizer the two of them were spreading during her classy dinner. Either way, she determined, it would be better if she didn't mess with the moment and simply observed. However, she did make a mental note about what she had seen thus far:

SUBJECT ENJOYS MIMICKING MY MODELED BEHAVIOR.  
DURING DINNER, ASSISTANT TOOK SIDES WITH SUBJECT.  
WHY? NO PERCEIVED BENEFIT TO ASSISTANT.

Pim's plate slowly emptied throughout dinner. She never did use the dipping sauce and the pork continued to be a problem to chew until Phil showed her that's what cats are for. Daisy made short work of the bite-sized pieces until she'd had her fill, then Phil would spear a remaining morsel now and then off of Pim's plate when Keely appeared not to be watching. All of this was going smoothly, until Phil burped. Keely looked shocked, so, of course, he uttered the customary, "Please, excuse me."

Keely smiled in approval ... for an instant, then she feared the worse.

"BEELCH! Peas x kooz me."

Then it was Phil's turn again, "BURRRRRP! Please, excuse me. My bad."

A contest ensued, a duet, really. All of a sudden, her wonderful evening meal had turned into - into - well, the only thing missing was Curtis to make it a trio. Keely could have joined in, been part of the fun, but that didn't seem very scientific, or dignified. What was happening to her? Was she changing as much as Pim and her brother. What was that thing she read in science, something about an observer changing what could be observed just by bearing witness? Could it be that it also worked in reverse, that the experiment could alter the experimenter? One thing she was certain of, there'd be no dessert tonight.

And passing the plate over to Boris ...


	10. On Her Own

Disclaimer: Do I own Phil of the Future? Define "own."

And Boris goes double digits!

Chapter Ten: On Her Own

Let's see.

"You wanna take a bath by yourself?"

"Yeah."

"Okay sweetie. If you need anything though, let us know."

"Deal."

Keely was adding more stuff to her log, when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Keely? Via here. I've been thinking maybe you and Phil would want to go on a

double date with Owen and me?"

"I'll have to talk with Phil about it. I'll get back to ya."

"Right."

Meanwhile, Pim enjoyed this, the warm water, the sented shampoo, the nice

fluffy sheets to dry off with. Life was good.

Pim looked at herself in the mirror after she was done.

Her PJ's were her favorite kind and color, she'd done a great job at drying

off, and her hair looked great too.

"Hi mommy."

"Hey sweetie."

"Thank you."

"Aww, no problem, looks like you did a good job for your first bath alone."

"Can I sleep with you tonight?"

"Sure."

Phil heard them talking.

He got his replicator from home, no Pim.

He'd have to scan her at her normal age, and fast.

He had Keely revert Pim for a bit just so he could scan her. As he did, he

noticed her smile wasn't the evil one he was used too.

Phil was enjoying playing dad.

Your turn to file Chapter 11, Crafty.  
(if I knew you needed a couple of bucks ...)


	11. Night Visions

Disclaimer: Phil of the Future is cancelled? When will we wake from this nightmare? What? I don't own it, also? YIKES! Now, that's a real good reason to wake up screaming.

Authors' Note: CraftyNotepad picks up the storyline with ...

Chapter Eleven: Night Visions

Beads of perspiration covered six-year-old Pim Diffy's youthful face. Feet stuck to the ground, possibly sinking, making her seem even shorter, Pim was feeling pretty powerless to rescue herself, then they came. Pennies. The ground tilted and suddenly she was part way up a mountain with herds of the those copper coins creeping towards her.

Then, came the dimes, followed by credit cards, armored car bank bags brimming with cash, all headed toward her, but that wasn't the really scary part. Try as she might, they all remained out of reach, her legs now sunk mid-calf.

Then, they came, sheep and cattle following the same paths as the moolah did moments before. As they came closer, bleating and mooing, their forms became shimmering masses of golden light, as if each one had been Insta-morphed. Questions was, were they really people, previously disguised as livestock, or farm animals now masquerading as human beings. Answer: in Pim's eyes, it didn't matter, because the difference was too close to call. What did matter was that they had all stopped, fallen to their knees and were proceeding to bow and prostrate themselves in her direction. There; that did feel better! Wait! She still couldn't move. Chanting errupted without warning and, still kneeling, the hoardes sped past her as if they were on hidden high speed conveyor belts. This made it impossible to make out the name they repeated over and over as a mantra, but there was one thing she was certain of: it wasn't "Pim."

She had to get free, and somehow, back in the waking world, one of her legs responded, kicking Keely in her keister.

"Ow! Pim?"

Pim was crying, which sent her bedmate straight into nurturing mode. "What's wrong, Honey? Did you have a bad dream?" Pim's nodding shook the bed so much that there was no need for Keely to switch a light on. "Aw, Pimmy. Don't worry. You're safe. Don't you know that as long as you have people who love and care about you, nothing bad will happen? It was just a nightmare, Pim. It wasn't real. Relax and go back to sleep, Sweetie. Sweet, sweet dreams ... (yawn)"

Keely was too quick to comfort Pim. Had she taken time to listen Pim would have told her "mommy" about her dream and what was the truly scary part that had terrified her enough to wake up: All these followers, offering gifts? They weren't hers.

... now, that would have been important data to add inside her log.

Your turn, Boris.

.


	12. Double Your Fun

Disclaimer: There is much sadness in Pickford because we've checked and we don't own PotF.

Boris Yeltsin Presents:

Chapter 12: Double Your Fun

Keely told Phil about the nightmare next morning.

"Didn't you ask her about it?"

"Hello!"

"Right, sorry."

"Anyway, Via called last night, wants to go on a double date with us."

"They're dating?"

"Yep."

"Wow, big surprise."

"So?"

"We'll go, but we'll have to take Pim along."

"If your parents find out what happened, we are so dead."

"You mean me?"

"Right."

Later, they were ready to go.

Pim's face brightened when she saw the couple as they entered the restaurant.

"Uncle Owen, aunt Via."

"Well, who do we have here?"

"Via, this is Phil's cousin, Pim."

"Doesn't Phil have a sister with that name?"

"I know, weird huh?"

Owen and Phil high-fived.

"Hey buddy."

The dinner went off great. Pim behaved with Keely and Phil's help.

"That was great huh?"

"Yeah. Well, see ya later."

"Later dude."

Phil and Owen shook hands.

That night, Pim was sure she could sleep by herself now that she was seven.

"Your sure."

"I'll be fine."

"Okay, just remember we're here."

Keely hoped nothing would go wrong.

Crafty?


	13. Lucky Serendipity

Disclaimer: Do I own PotF? You mean, like right now? Well, "no," not at this precise moment in time, 'xactly.

**A/N**: Don't you want to know how Boris got Owen and Via together in the first place in time for last chapter? I certainly did, and so does our Miss Teslow in ...

:

Chapter Thirteen: Lucky Serendipity

:

Keely just had to know; it was eating her alive. Finally, her experiment was in bed asleep before Keely allowed herself the luxury of considering to do what she couldn't with Pim about, so when the last iota of her willpower vanished, she surrendered to the inevitable. She dialed her.

"Keely?"

"'Lo Vee. Hope you didn't mind us making it a five-some, but considering your history with Owen, I thought Little Pim's presence would keep Owen reined in, or at least G-rated."

"Ha-Ha. It was fine, really. I had a great time."

"So, spill! Everybody at school has been talking about "O-wen-Will-They-Go-Out" for months now. How'd you finally give in to his constant invitations? Flowers, poetry, concert tickets, or did you just go out to shut him up?"

"Oh, Keely. None of those. It was - actually, it was rather embarrassing. I probably shouldn't -"

"Now you have to!"

"(mumble mumble) Alright. Well, I was downtown window shopping last weekend and Owen ran into me, literally. Ever seen a feedbag for a horse in movies or cartoons? That was Owen, then, doing what I suppose was a fine imitation of one, but with a forty-ounce cup, trying to free the last of a milkshake from the bottom of the vessel."

"HIS milkshake, I hope."

"(shudder) I didn't consider that not being a possibility. Anyway, he helped me back up, actually apologized, and, and, we -"

"You 'what?"

"Nothing, really. Just had a nice time. Say, you never did explain why Phil's cousin is sleeping at your house instead of his."

"Oh, that's - I mean, she's only -, " Keely stammered, then took a deep breath to give herself a moment's time to think first and hopefully dislodge her foot from her mouth. "I'm doing a favor for the Diffys. Think about it from their point of view: 'TWO PIMS' under the same roof? You know Phil's sister - can you really blame them? Either the terrifying twosome would gang up on everyone else, or one would devour the other, bones and all." Then Keely went on the offense with, "SAY, you're just trying to change the subject, Little Missy. I want to hear the embarassing part."

"Crumbs. Say, did you hear what happened in Miss Donaldson's English class today?"

"No, what? WAIT. Stop that. Veee-uhhhhh..."

"(Sigh) So, Owen and I were walking down Main Street, and I started paying more attention to him than the window displays. He was actually great. We were having a real conversation without him hitting on me every eight seconds, then -"

"THEN, THEN?"

"Well, this is the part that's a teensy bit embarrassing. See? We were rounding the corner on Second, and I'm thinking, "Uh-oh."

"Because Otto's Pink Pig is coming up on the next cross street?"

"Precisely. You know Owen and Owen's stomach. The two of them were bound to ask me to join them in a bite, then he'd be calling that our first date from then on out."

Keely sympathized, "I can see where that would be embarrassing."

"Yes, well, hrmph, that's actually not the embarrassing bit. Thinking fast, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a dojo that had just opened up, with a banner that read:

.

**Martial Arts - Couples Only**

.  
**  
**

Next thing Owen knows, backward I'm pulling him inside the store with both my arms, telling him that this will be fun for the both of us. Owen is resisting me, though, dragging his feet and asking me if I've thought this through, and I'm all, 'What are you, afraid that I'll take you down on the mat in front of everybody, Mr. O-wen-Will-He-Put-His-Money-Where-His-Mouth-Is? Come on, Mister, because it says I have to have a partner to practice with and I pick you. Now, move it!'"

"What did he say?"

"Nothing, which was really strange from Mr. O-wen-Will-He-Ever-Stop-Talking? I pulled him through the empty reception area to the back where I could hear an instructor's voice accompanied by the grunts and groans of students practicing. Mind you, cowardly Owen is still resisting me as I pull him through the curtain, my back to the class, but I could see his eyes grow as large as saucers."

"He was afraid of getting creamed."

"That's what I thought. I was teasing Owen about his being a spoil sport and big fraidy cat, and I started asking the dojo master about our joining his class while I turned around. Keely, I had misread the sign. It had actually read:

.

**Marital Arts - Couples Only**

.

"Oh, Jeez. What did you do?"

"Well, I was dumbstruck. Couples were on a circle of mats with an old guy in the center of the ring instructing them to - well, sufficed to say that this night they were already working on how to - bedroom stuff - without any clothes on."

"Oh Boy! Owen must have gone into full blown teenage boy mode with all that in front of him. How'd you ever get him out again?"

Via was silent just for a moment, then started again calmer, with a lack of embarrassment finally, replaced by what, Keely wondered; was Via actually smittened?

"My mouth was wide open, Keely, but I couldn't talk. Awkward? I was mortified. Then, Owen just stepped forward, apologized to everyone (I think I saw Mr. Weatherwax, but his back was mostly turned), and led me back outside."

"You saw Mr. Weatherwax's butt? I'm so sorry, Vee. I bet they're going to make double sure they lock their front door from now on."

"Owwie was great, Keely. A perfect gentleman. THE Perfect Gentleman. He never spoke of it again, and I - I asked him out after that. You understand why, don't you?"

"Did you just call him 'O-wee'?"

Via didn't respond, 'xactly, yet Keely was certain she heard her pal's cheeks blooming in rosy glow.

A/N: Tag, Boris.


	14. Big Trouble

Disclaimer: I don't own Phil of the Future.

A/N: Boris is writing about ...

Chapter 14: Big Trouble.

Keely told Phil about what had happened over breakfast.

"Man, he's never gonna live that down."

"Don't think so."

"Live what down?"

Keely told Pim, now 8, what had happened.

Pim cracked up.

"Oops. He should learn to read signs."

"It was aunt Via who read the sign wrong."

"Oh."

Meanwhile, Lloyd noticed something was up with Pim. She was acting, perky?

That wasn't like her.

He went through the future stuff in the garage, and found the New-Ager. It was

in a different place. Somebody had used it, but who?

He was gonna get to the bottom of this.

A/N: Tag Crafty, your turn.


	15. House Call

Disclaimer: I don't own Phil of the Future or any facsimile there of, yet.

A/N: And the hand off goes to Crafty ...

Chapter Fifteen: House Call

It was a high pitched scream that resounded in Lloyd Diffy's ears that morning, filled with terror, and, well, girlishness. He rushed to see from whence it came, then turned about and went back to what he was doing before. That was typical of Lloyd. He tolerated present-dayers, but he didn't get upset by their little lives. They were just walking history lessons, in his eyes.

Now, that wasn't true for everyone in the Diffy family. For example, right at this moment there was feminine rush out the Diffys' front door as an unofficial nurse rushed to see if she could mend, heal, and comfort. Out on the sidewalk next door was a whimpering mass partially wrapped up in the rattiest bathrobe ever to be thrown away by a homeless person - must have been, 'cuz even Goodwill wouldn't have accepted it.

"There, there, Vice-Principal Hackett. You're going to be all right. Now show Pim where it hurts ..."

Yes, it was the replicant version of Phil's sister. What was it about the personality duplication that always came off like a bad xerox copy? Now, the real Pim? She'd wouldn't have ignored the injured neighbor either, gone through his pockets? No. Not even Curtis would go poking around that poor excuse for hobo's hanky - make that "long used hanky." No, Pim wouldn't have ignored a helpless, injured person in pain. She would have gotten around to him after, say, her third - no, fourth scavenger hunt through his house for goodies of the pawn store variety. Mama loves her cash! But this day, Neil Hackett was more fortunate. He got the "loaner" Pim while the original was in the shop undergoing a major overhaul.

Later, back inside his house, when he paused to peek under his bandaid, he reflected that maybe, just maybe, he had be wrong about one of the Diffys. (He was sure he heard Lloyd's painful chortling after he fell.) This Pim Diffy really cares, he concluded, and he was right, mostly. (Replicant Pim did "pocket" his good conduct medal from his arm days, along with a few bills from his wallet - after all, she did perform a house call.) "This" Pim Diffy did. As for Pim 2.0, well, she was a work in progress ...

And passing the antiseptic over to Boris ...


	16. Found you

Disclaimer: Checked my pockets, but "Nope." Guess somebody else owns PotF.

Chapter Sixteen: Found you.

"So, I was thinking we could go see a movie.", Keely told Phil and Pim who was now 9

"Sure."

They looked for a good movie. Finding one, they got ready and went to watch Lost Pony IV: Hoof Prints In The Sands Of Time.

Meanwhile, Lloyd was tracking Phil's Wizrd with his own.

The signal was coming from Keely's house. Lloyd knew Phil and Keely would hang out there a lot, and that Phil brought his own future stuff along with him, but why would he leave all of it here?

He went inside, wondering and hoping to find some kind of answer as to why his youngest wasn't being herself lately.

Your turn, Crafty.


	17. Something In the Dark

Disclaimer: It's a little dark in here to tell if I own PotF or not.

Authors' Note: CraftyNotepad picks up the storyline with ...

Chapter Seventeen: Something In the Dark

Maybe she'd try dialing it manually, she considered. 555-0139. There. Waiting, waiting, waiting ...

"Blasted brussel sprouts." Voice mail again. "Keely, this is your mother. Why is your phone off? Call me back because I had a feeling that something dreadful is going to happen and you know that my premonitions are always right sometimes. I'm worried about you all alone. You are all alone, right? Remember what I said about 'no boys.' I'm fine on this end. In fact, I'll be coming home a little early, but it's not because I don't think that you can't take care of yourself - you are eating real food from the kitchen, and not just ordering junk food, right? Right. Now, remember to double check the doors at night and make certain that you don't walk away from the stove if it's lit. Would you test the smoke detectors in the house just in case? Thanks, Dear. Love you and see you soon."

That was the third message Mandy Teslow had left for Keely in the past hour. She couldn't have known that her Keely was nearly as much in the dark as she was. Only difference, Keely was in the dark of a theater watching a movie, cell phone turned off for courtesy reasons. Couldn't have talked anyway, for Keely's mouth was fully packed with popcorn. Pim had borrowed her brother's wizrd and had jumbo-sized their popcorn tubs while they still had the theater seating to themselves - couldn't risk a wizrd flashing it's techno-magic in a darkened movie theater - no one would be watching the flick after that!

Pim enjoyed the movie, Keely could tell. No rude comments to the lady with the bid hairdo who sat in front of them, not even when she talked through several parts of the movie. Phil almost tossed a kernel of popcorn her way when the lady even pulled out her chiming cell and started chatting at full volume, but it was Pim who lightly restrained him before anything flew. Later that night, Keely would make some notes inside her ongoing log:

GOOD DAY.

SUBJECT IS PROGRESSING BEYOND MY EXPECTATIONS. ASSISTANT REGRESSED FOR A MOMENT TODAY,

BUT SUBJECT EXHIBITED GOOD BEHAVIOR - BOTH IN HER OWN MODELING,

AS WELL AS, CORRECTING MY ASSISTANT.

I'M OBSERVING THAT NATURE TRULY DOES ABHOR A VACUUM,

AS IT SEEMS THAT MY ASSISTANT OFTEN TAKES THE ROLL OF AN IMPISH INSTIGATOR,

NOW THAT MY SUBJECT HAS SEEMINGLY ABANDONED THAT ROLE.

WHILE I'M HAPPY WITH THE SUBJECT'S GROWTH,

I'M SOMETIMES CONCERNED THAT I MAY BE MAKING A NEW FRANKENSTEIN.

Keely coughed on her mouthful of popcorn. It was almost as if she could hear the spooky theme music in her mind as Keely just couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen ...

Your turn, Boris.

.


	18. Caught

Disclaimer: When the lights come on, it's time to admit that I don't own Phil of the Future.

Boris Yeltsin Presents:

Chapter 18: Caught.

"That was a great movie.", Keely said as they went back to her house.

"It was confusing.", Phil admitted.

"Never saw the first three?"

"Nope."

Keely noticed the light was on when they got to her house.

She checked the answering machine.

"We're in trouble."

"I heard them."

"Ah-ha!"

"Ahh!"

"Dad?"

"Gotcha!"

Later, Keely explained what she'd been upto lately.

Lloyd liked that she was honest with him, and loved what they were trying to

do to Pim.

He agreed to help, as long as Barb didn't know what was going on.

They went back to Phil's place and continued working.

What to do with two Pims though was anyone's guess.

Crafty?


	19. Pink Frosting In Their Veins

Disclaimer: Who? Me? Why I barely touched it. What was my crime? If not owning Phil of the Future isn't a punishment, then I don't know what is.

:

Chapter Nineteen: Pink Frosting In Their Veins

:

Teddy bears dressed up as dancers, giggling, four of them, Barb, Debbie Berwick, Pim and Mr. Hackett, who wanted everyone to call him "Neil" tonight.

It was getting late, not that anyone noticed back inside Casa Diffy, where - although you've seen a lot of weird goings on in the past inside its four walls - it was pandamonium. Yes, literally, for you see, two stuffed panda bears dressed up as Bavarian clog dancers were giving their tired paws a break as they sat down in plastic toddler chairs at the coffee table to enjoy sips of peppermint tea from inverted bottle caps. One, the lady panda, had a beaded necklace and flower wreath crowing her noggin, while her partner's muzzle was adorned with wispy little mustache while he wore a vest, belted pants, and a cardboard top hat constructed from a cereal box turned inside out. Then, there was the giggling.

Yes, the four of them were in great moods in the living room (and I'm not counting the tea sippers), just being silly and giggling and, did I mention "giggling?" That's all right, it due being repeated, because much of it was the particular flavor of giggle that takes place when no one else, but yourself can possibly make out what you are saying. Might be, "They were always destined to be together," or you might be critiquing the latest attempt to seal off a leaky undersea oil drilling disaster - nobody has a clue, so they just giggle right back your way in response. The ensuing tidal wave of giggles, well, you end up with gaggles and gaggles of giggles, all stemming from four very happy couturiers.

Yes, this was one light-hearted, girlish get together; the sort that brought joy-filled tears to Babs's eyes as she watch her youngest cavort with herself and the others. Barbara Diffy often dreamed of her daughter experiencing this sort of happiness, dream now coming true before her eyes. To keep production moving along effortlessly, Barb was more than happy to run upstairs to wizrd fabric scraps and whatever else someone needed at the moment.

Deborah Berwick witnessed a friend in Pim, one who actually liked Debbie in return. Deb would admit to herself later that some of her interest in Pim Diffy was missed as the challenge of "making" Pim like her back had disappeared, but Berwick considered it more than a fair trade. Previously, Pim had provided her pal/antagonist with a taste of what it would be like, when they both baked brownies to win ... no; Pim was actually doing her darnedest  
to beat Debs; same for their competitive fundraising for Mr. Hackett's hairpiece. But, but, then there was the time Pim called a baking assistance hotline and Debbie got to help her best ... no, not then either; Pim hung up on her before she had a chance to help her. Baking cupcakes for Halloween? Well, they just don't speak of that. They just don't. There was that nice yellow jumpsuit Pim presenter her with ... but that was for cheating on an exam. I guess, Pim never actually did ... WAIT! Fast walking! They both worked together to destroy Pim's only real competition, fast walker Frank Rizzo, by threatening to expose him to girl cooties. And, and, um ... oh, Pim helped her be more Pim-like so she could win back Bradley Benjamin Farmer. Debbie knew in her heart that Pim really did care about her ... and she had the bucket handle to prove it.

Even replicant Pim was enjoying all this camaraderie. So, this is what it's like every day to be alive? Joviality, friendship, cooperation ... she could get used to being real; it was a good gig. Admittedly, she couldn't taste, let alone digest "Mom's" snicker doodles, but she could savor the acceptance as an equal - more than acceptance, these people appreciated her being.

The fourth member of tonight's festivities was having at least as much fun. Though there had been a shared history of suspicion, hostility and annoyance with the real Pim, this new Pim had brought about a complete change of heart. Tonight - and it had been so very long since there was a tonight out with just friends, and not zombies there because they wanted to improve their own position in the H. G. Wells' hierarchy - was the best night in memory. Four high pitched voices with not a nasty tone or harmful word being uttered. Like the three musketeers, they supported one another's good fortune, taking joy in each other's creative accomplishments in transforming bare bears into frolicking dancers, be the teddies sharing a cappuccino at a footstool-transformed table, or suspended on monofilament from the ceiling fan as a mobile of light on their paws ballerinas garbed in their colorful tutus. Yes, acceptance, it was a wonderful sensation to relish in, and despite occasional tears of happiness, Neil Hackett was having the best time of his life.

"Mr. Hackett?"

"Pim? Please, what did I say?"

"Sorry. 'Neil?'"

"What can I do for you, Pim?"

"Do you have any pictures of you and your friends from your ballroom dancing days that we could draw inspiration from?"

"Do I? I'll be right back with them in a jiff!" Neil announced before scampering out the front door and past the spot where Pim had aided him when he was injured just hours before.

Now that someone left the room, the gossiping began in earnest.

"Did you see how his eyes lit up?"

"How could I miss it, but whatever you do, if his ex-wife appears in any of the pictures, don't bring it up."

"Pim, what does she look like, Dear?" asked Mother Diffy, since she didn't feel comfortable racing upstairs to Giggle the answer.

Debbie interjected, "I could Google it on my cell."

Her best friend shook her head in disapproval. "No need. He's still hurting, secretly pining for reconciliation with her. If she shows up in a photograph, it'll be one he's sure to immediately discard for another one." Her companions nodded in agreement as the doorbell rang.

"Oh, hi, um ...?" Barbara was at a loss for words.

"Hi. I'm pizza delivery girl Peggy from Pickford's Pizza Pie. Somebody here ordered a couple of pizzas and a side order of fortune cookies?"

"I don't think so. You must have the wrong house."

"No, Mom. I ordered them. I figured you deserved a break from cooking tonight. My treat."

"I'll get my purse."

Pim got up from the couch, putting her bear aside with only half of his mustache sewn on, "No, don't do that. I found some money in my room. Like I said, Mom, my treat." Barbara Diffy just stood there, sort of a paralytic shock - Pim volunteering to spend her own money? And then such a generous tip! Barb's jaw dropped open at the sight of her daughter's generosity. "What, Mom? The lady has to make a living, too, you know?" Pim's mother somehow managed to nod in agreement, noticing both the changes in her daughter's personality and the aromas emanating from the cardboard boxes, and then approving of both.

"Fortune cookies and pizza?" Debbie chimed in from the couch.

"Yes, it's been our biggest hit since we started using tomato sauce instead of ketchup on our ninety-nine cent mini pizzas. Thanks for both of those suggestions, Debbie."

"Oh, I was just glad to help. It's what I do."

Upon hearing that, a chill ran up replicant Pim's virtual spine, and a twitch started in her left eye, which Peggy didn't know what to make of, but she had completed her delivery, been tipped, so she was off to make her next delivery, a regular named Weatherwax, six extra-large triple onion pizzas with everything on them. As she drove away, she hoped he'd tip as well as that sweet little girl back there, but she knew the chance of that with that teacher: fat chance.

Back at the house, everyone had cleared off the coffee table, including relocating the tea sipping clog dancers to the kitchen. The Bavarian duo were now enjoying a romantic view of the inside of the Diffys' dishwasher with its door pulled down and covered by a couple of empty pillowcases acting in for a small tablecloth. Both pizzas were well on their way to being devoured, sausage-pineapple and classic pepperoni with carmel corn, so there was less giggling, less talking, but more chewing and "mm-m-m" sounds.

"And here's one with me and - my partner - in Phoenix during competitionals. Gee, I really miss - that outfit, (sigh), but I've lost some weight and she-it no longer fits me." Neil reluctantly placed the photo on the extra plate with the rest of the pictures presented thus far so it could be passed around despite greasy fingers.

"How much did you lose, Mr. Hack-"

Pim kicked Debbie from under the table.

"I mean, 'how much did you lose, "Neil?"'"

Pim slapped her hand across her own face. How could this girl be so dense as not to get what she meant by her signal?

Neil started choking up. "Hundred and thirty-five pounds, Debbie." Then he started raining tears into his sausage and pineapple, watering down its sauce.

Barbara was quick to step in, "There, there, Neil. Here, why don't you be the first to pick from the fortune cookies?" Neil accepted Barb's offer, as did the girls next.

Clearing her throat after crushing the appetizer nearly to dust, Deborah read hers as if she was giving a speech in the Miss America contest, "'You will find new adventures and new surprises.' Golly, that's nice."

"Neil, why don't you read yours?

Mr. Hackett had stuffed the whole cookie in his mouth, so he was a bit embarrassed as to what to do? Spit it out and break the wet cookie open, or ... Everyone heard his crunching sounds, after which he swished the pieces around in his mouth, finally presenting his fortune's slip of paper neatly from between his pursed lips. A neat swallow, then he shared what was printed before him: "Your path will be joined by supportive friends." This made Neil smile, look at the warm faces smiling back at him, Barb and Debbie reaching over to offer him a comforting touch. Too much, his smile quivered and bawling pursued.

"Mom, read yours ... please."

"You will shortly discover that everyone is not who they pretend to be."

Debbie commented, "My, yours is a cryptic one. Pim, we've saved the best for last. Your turn."

Replicant Pim cracked her fortune cooke open one of the three ways modeled for her by her companions. This left the cookie in just two pieces, soon to be stored along with the four slices of pizza already in her virtual stomach. "In Spring, the grasshopper never dreams of Winter."

"Wow, Pim, and I thought your mother's was a puzzle, but yours is almost a painting. It's so poetic."

"Thanks, I guess, but I didn't write it. I just opened the stupid cookie."

"Of course, Silly. We all know that you'd never be bothered with something as abstract as poetry."

"What are you saying, Berwick? That I'm simple minded?"

"No, Pim, I was simply commenting you on how practical you are. That's my girl, nuts and bolts, get the job done, never concerning yourself with issues like beauty."

"So, now I'm ugly."

"Pim, Honey, I don't think Debbie is saying that at all. She's your best friend and your guest. Now, apologize to her."

"(grumble, grumble, Berwick)"

"Thank you, Pim. Apology accepted," chirped Berwick.

Barbara looked about her, half-dressed teddy bears strewn about her living room, her newly sweetened daughter seemed to be regressing, Pim's pal, though still sweet, was making it evident that she wasn't the most sensitive girl eating pizza, and the dear, sweet next door neighbor was wetting her couch pillows with his crying, and that was all if she was lucky! It was clear to her that it was time to wrap this evening up, as the party was definitely over, but how?

"Neil, would you like me to walk you home?" Debbie offered.

Maybe, thought Barbara, she had jumped to conclusions too quickly, at least concerning Debbie.

"Uh-huh," was about all Mr. H. got out. Debbie, however, did the talking for the both of them.

"Thank you, Mrs. Diffy. We both had a terrific time tonight, but, my goodness, it's getting late. Nana will be worried that I won't be home in time to recharge - that is, 'remind' her to - take her medicine."

"But Debbie, if she's up worrying about it, won't she just take it herself?" Barbara puzzled.

"What was that, Mrs. D? Sorry, I gotta get Mr. Hackett home and then off to bed for me. It's way past my bedtime. See you later, Pimmy!" Debbie shouted, her back turned to usher her vice-principal home as speedily as she could with possible witnesses.

Relieved that this was all over so neatly, Barbara let out a cleansing breath. Well, not quite all over. Turning to address her daughter, she found Pim was already hard at work, the remaining pizza slices now sharing just one box and Pim busy picking up tonight's burst of sewing creativity, be they scraps, bears, or whatever. Maybe Pim was going through the infamous teenage metamorphosis that plagues all parents, maybe it was nothing at all, but motherly instincts kicking in, she just had to ask, "Sweetie, is everything alright?"

"Sure, Mom, everything's great," responded a typical teen with the answer expected, and with the traditional lack of eye contact.

"It's just that you and Debbie were - and then you -"

"Berwick just presses my buttons, sometimes. Don't worry about it, Mother. I'll get even."

"Pim, what does that mean?"

"'Don't worry about it?' It means it was no big deal."

"Then why did you say you'd get even."

"I never said that. Mom, you must be tired. Hey, I'll finish cleaning this up. Why don't you go upstairs and rest?"

Barbara Diffy did what she was told. She climbed upstairs, even getting horizontal on her bed, but, Readers, she felt very disturbed. Rest was out of the question.

A/N: Tag, Boris.


	20. The Truth Comes Out

Disclaimer: I don't own Phil of the Future ... do you?

A/N: Boris reveals ...

Chapter 20: The Truth Comes Out.

"What the?", Keely asked as they came up to Phil's house and could see the

party through the window.

"Bad timing?", Phil asked.

Lloyd hurried them toward the garrage.

Curtis noticed them.

He noticed younger Pim and screamed.

"Curtis, take it easy."

"You not Pim."

"I'm her alright."

"What happen?"

Lloyd explained it in a way Curtis could understand.

"Don't tell Barb anything."

"Right, no tell Barb about this, cross heart."

"Now what?"

"Not sure."

"I love parties."

"Pim, wait!"

11-year-old Pim run into her double.

"Ahhh! You're me! I'm you!"

Keely zapped her Pim to the clones normal age.

Barb noticed.

"Pim, there's two of you?"

"Looks that way. Alright, if you are me, where'd you come from?"

The other Pim told Barb everything.

"What?"

"Nice going.", Phil muttered.

He erased the clone.

Barb came down to the garage, anger on her face.

"Hey honey."

"Mind telling me why there were two versions of my daughter?"

A/N: Tag Crafty, your turn.


	21. Double Trouble

Disclaimer: I don't own Phil of the Future, nor do I rent.

A/N: And the hand off goes to Crafty ...

Chapter Twenty-One: Double Trouble

"Just so there's more of me to love, Mom," Pim One and Pim Two chimed in as one. Guess the old saying is true: sinister minds do think alike. Mama Diffy wasn't buying it, though, and soon she had a full explanation - the truthful one. Road to Hell ... best intentions, it was so classic. What was worse, there seemed to be a meeting of the minds as the replicant Pim spent more time "online," and biological daughter increased in age. Now, neither one's personality was more than a shadow of the other, but some had already suspected that Pimminess was a primordial force which would always reassert itself, like water seeking its own level, or cheerleaders dating jocks.

Curtis watched the tongue lashing that Barbara gave the three mad scientists and was glad that he was innocent and just lived here. Lloyd was trying to weasel out of any responsibility, but he needn't have bothered. It didn't matter to his wife that he had just found out about it. His crime was that he knew and approved of what had been going on, even agreeing to assist. The Cro-Magnon also noticed what nobody else did, that the twins had moved off to one side and were having a conversation of their very own, a subtle one in hushed tones. While C-man couldn't tell what they were discussing, his experience told him that it could be summed up in one of two words, either "Pim," or "trouble," which, coincidentally, a quick visit to a Giggle will verify that both words share the same definition in the 22nd Century. No matter, for Curtis started inching away from all in his garage-cave to avoid being at ground zero, even if he was uncertain which party would blow up first, though currently Barb's fuse was becoming mighty short.

The only person more quiet than Barbara, but not as much as silent Curtis, was Keely. Her boyfriend was doing all the talking to defend her to Pim's mother; Lloyd was really more focused on defending his own self. It was at times like this that Curtis considered getting a pet, someone he could talk to, order around, share his day, but every time he considered one, he'd mention how tasty it could be. Then, "Mom" and "Dad" would get all parental on him, going into full blown lecture mode. Why did he let them get away with pulling the parent card when he was clearly was at least as mature of the two of them, perhaps put together, even. He didn't even understand why Lloyd accusing him of having "rocks in his head" was supposed to be a bad thing. Curtis tried to tell his assistant that there was no such thing as a bad rock - only bedrock, and maybe poor pitiful pebbles, but that wasn't important right now. Popcorn. Now, that was important, because what could make this drama more complete, if not popped corn? Two dramas going on at once. The fur-wearing hunter was enjoying this more than cartoons, but it was making his neck hurt trying to watch both groups at the same time. Where's the "PAUSE" button when he really could use it? Oh, here it goes! Barb's boiling!

"You did this to your own daughter, your sister, and Keely - you said you cared about this family! How could you kidnap and then brainwash my daughter? Well, young lady, you like playing with 22nd Century gadgets so much ..." Barb gasped for lack of air, "... let's see how you like being on the receiving end for a change!" With that, Keely's eyes opened wide as Phil's mother raised the NewAger and pointed it at her. Phil tried to go to her defense, but his mom had a definite height advantage; she simply raised the age altering gizmo above his reach and pointed down at the blonde beanstalk in the garage. "Take that, you, you - fetus!"

Keely shut her eyes, bracing herself for a total remodeling job. No more hair problems, she'd look like Vice-Principal Hackett's mini-me. Phil'd be the taller one now, way, way taller. At least she'd have solid reasons for not finishing her social studies report - too far to crawl to class, insufficient coordination to finish typing it, and, oh, yeah, nap times. She was going to miss her all her shoes, and what was her mother going to say about all this?

It was Pim One on Pim Two's shoulders who grabbed her mother's wrist and pulled the NewAger away just as it was fired. Almost harmlessly, the pre-birthing beam passed through the roof, only regressing the shingles back to saplings and a robin back into its shell. In science class, Mr. Angst went on and on about worms and eggs and things, teaching that the egg is the most aerodynamic shape possible. The splattered remains on Mr. Hackett's bathroom window was contradictory evidence of that belief. Speaking of "almost harmless, Pim spoke, "No, Mom. I think this should be up to me."

Bring it home, Boris!


	22. Here We Go Again

Disclaimer: Stupid New-Ager ... Penny Missle ... Skyak ball ... Invisa-spray ... isn't there anything good from the future? I mean, something that will get me ownership of Phil of the Future now.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Here We Go Again.

Pim took ame with the New-Ager, and fired it at Keely.

'Noooo! Goodbye hair, goodbye shoes'!

Keely was a bawling infant in seconds.

"Ah, sweet revenge."

Phil picked the baby up gently.

"Keely, it'll be okay."

He rocked her in his arms.

Barb handed down their punishments.

Keely wasn't allowed to use their stuff without her saying yes, and Phil and Lloyd were grounded from future stuff for a month.

Phil also had to take care of baby Keely during that time, while Lloyd had to come up with a lye that she was sick.

Phil did a good job with her.

A month later, normal Keely wrote in her log what she'd learned. She had to ajust her panties, cuz the diaper rash wouldn't go away.

It turned out that it wasn't any good trying to change who Pim was ment to be. She'd never try anything like that again.

**A/N:** I want to thank Crafty Notepad for giving me suggestions, as well as helping me write this story. I also wish to thank those who read and reviewed, and you know who you are.


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